


Shark God's First Christmas

by Python07



Series: Shark God AU [3]
Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Christmas fic, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Modern AU, Panic Attacks, Shark god AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2019-02-09
Packaged: 2019-09-24 07:17:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17096234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Python07/pseuds/Python07
Summary: It's Shark god's first Christmas and he really doesn't know what to make of it. He's been told about it. He's read about it. However, he still doesn't get it.





	1. He couldn't be still.

**Author's Note:**

> This is really just an excuse for smut.

He’d already been for a swim but the water was cold and not even Predator would give him a good chase. He thought of exercising by running through the halls like some of the others who lived at the facility, but the stale, recycled air, human sweat, and pine and gingerbread scented decorations were an overpowering combination and put him on edge. The main lounge had a large Christmas tree covered in fake snow, tinsel, twinkling lights, and a mishmash of ornaments. It was gaudy and it all smelled fake and repellent. The music coming from most of the offices and labs was high pitched sweet nonsense or choral garbage. 

He tried sitting still in Armand’s office while Armand finished all the paperwork and calls he had to make to Joseph, Louis, and Father whatever his name is. The office was quiet and blissfully music free. The herbal, clean scent of the sweet bay shrub in the corner was soothing. The view of the underwater ocean was always beautiful, even if Predator was always lurking.

He blew out a long breath and tried to let Armand’s voice just wash over him. He could wait. Really. 

He rolled his eyes at himself. Who was he kidding? He couldn’t be still. He jumped up to pace.

Armand’s concessions to the season were a Dr. Who Christmas sweater and custom Christmas cards featuring Predator’s picture amongst the underwater ruins (Jean hated them on sight). He had an ear bud in his ear. He sat behind his desk, scrolling through the newest photos from the site on his tablet. “I apologize again,” he said, smooth and firm, but also with a hint of teasing. “But I simply can’t make it to your parish Christmas party this year….Of course, I’ll tell you all about it…” He laughed. “…I promise. I’ll see you on the 24th…” The tablet hit the desk and his voice broke. “Alphonse!”

The answering cackle at the other end of the phone was loud enough to reach his sensitive ears. He stopped short when the scents of Armand’s sudden embarrassment and arousal hit his nose. His eyes narrowed at the sight of Armand’s blush. He went to stand behind Armand’s chair, put hands on Armand’s shoulders, and pulled him to lean back. He started rubbing the tense muscles.

“If your parishioners only knew you the way I do,” Armand groused even as he relaxed into those warm hands. “…well, I despise you, brother dear…I’ll see you then. Merry Christmas, asshole.” With that, he hung up and let out a put upon sigh. “Every year, Jean.”

“Are you finally finished?” Jean chuckled and leaned down to nuzzle the side of Armand’s head. “Brother?”

“Yes.” Armand put his head back to rest against Jean’s stomach. “One of them. I have two older brothers and two sisters, one older and one younger, and it’s Alphonse’s turn to host the family. I told you about it when you asked about Christmas.”

“I remember.” Jean growled. “You’ll be gone for two days.”

Armand let out a warm chuckle at Jean’s put out tone. “A whole two days. How will you survive?”

Jean growled again. “I can smell you.” He licked the shell of Armand’s ear and his voice dropped even lower. “What did he say to provoke you?”

Armand’s breath hitched as he tilted his head to expose the side of his neck. “Let’s just say something that shouldn’t pass the lips of a man of the cloth and leave it at that.”

Jean’s lips found a sensitive spot below Armand’s ear. One hand found it’s way under Armand’s sweater and t shirt to roam over Armand’s bare chest and flick his nipples. He kissed, licked, and nipped at Armand’s neck.

Armand’s eyes slipped closed. He bit his bottom lip but a moan slipped through. He grabbed Jean’s hand through the fabric.

Jean pressed his nose against Armand’s skin and inhaled deeply. Armand’s scent was familiar and addicting and yet different. Armand’s increasing arousal gave him a heady feeling. He felt Armand’s heartbeat thundering under his hand and he itched to touch him. Everywhere. He tugged at Armand’s earlobe with his teeth. “Stand up,” he murmured roughly.

Armand hurriedly did so while Jean pushed the chair out of their way. Armand was breathless, his skin was flushed, and there were already marks on his neck. He grabbed the hem of Jean’s shirt and pulled it off over his head.

Jean didn’t give Armand time to admire him before he had him stripped to the waist. The sight of all that pale skin made him mouth water. He went for the button of Armand’s jeans and helped him strip off his remaining clothes.

Armand grabbed him. “You too.”

Jean couldn’t move fast enough with the intent way Armand was watching him. He shoved everything off the desk except Armand’s laptop, tablet, and phone. It was one of the first lessons he’d learned so as not to piss Armand off. He set those items on a nearby shelf. Gently. Just as gently, he pushed Armand to sit on the desk.

Armand laughed. It was short, but it was warm and quiet. He cupped Jean’s face and pulled him into a slow, sensual kiss.

Jean planted his hands on the desk on either side of Armand and pressed closer, skin-to-skin. He opened up to the kiss. It quickly escalated and he found that enjoyed Armand dominating the kiss. He happily let him ravage his mouth.

Armand broke the kiss with a gasp. He rested his forehead against Jean’s, panting against Jean’s lips. He was barely audible. “Beloved.”

Jean blinked and his eyes were the shark black and Armand’s turned a deeper shade of blue in response. Jean growled, low, possessive, and otherworldly. He started another round of hot and heavy kisses while he pushed Armand to lay back on the desk. Then he pulled away only to trail kisses along Armand’s jaw and over his throat.

Armand threw his head back and moaned. He arched up into Jean’s body and his nails dug into Jean’s back. He wrapped a leg around Jean’s thigh.

Jean trailed his lips over Armand’s collarbones and down his chest. He took the time to taste and touch every inch of skin. He continued south, teasing and scraping Armand’s skin with the barest hint of sharp teeth, but that stopped when he got to his prize. He took Armand’s hardness deep down his throat.

Unintelligible noises spilled from Armand’s lips. He grabbed Jean’s head and held on tightly. His hips bucked up into that hot mouth.

Jean couldn’t get enough of Armand’s scent and taste. He buried his face in Armand’s groin and inhaled deeply through his nose. He backed off just enough to glance up to watch Armand writhe in pleasure. He hardly had to think about it and his fingers were wet and slick.

Armand opened his legs wider when he felt the first finger slip inside. His cries took on a higher pitch as more were added. He rocked forward into the wet heat and rocked back on the digits inside of him.

Jean took Armand to the edge of release and suddenly pulled off Armand’s hard cock. He ignored Armand’s protest, swiftly removed his fingers, grabbed Armand’s hips, and buried himself in Armand’s heat. He barely gave Armand any time to adjust before he set a brutal pace, pounding that special spot. He never took his eyes off the beautiful body laid out before him.

Armand locked eyes with Jean. He was the first to come, untouched. He let out a guttural moan as he painted his own stomach and chest.

Jean gripped Armand’s hips hard enough to leave bruises. He managed one last thrust as he followed a split second later. Time seemed to stand still for a perfect moment before the pleasure swept him away.

All he could hear were the rapid beating of their hearts. All he could smell was sex and sweat. He eased out of Armand. He then proceeded to lick him clean as his eyes slowly returned to normal. He kissed back up Armand’s body to find that he’d passed out. He smiled and kissed his forehead. “I have you, beloved.”


	2. "I'm not used to being joined at the hip with someone."

Armand decided to cut his dive short. The water was cold and murky this time of year. Shark god was ever present in the back of his head but the megalodon was nowhere in sight. Predator circled him, as usual. He grabbed Predator’s dorsal fin and let Predator take him to the airlock.

He stowed his equipment and made his way through the mostly empty hallways. Over half the staff was already gone for Christmas break. Christmas music came from a few of the labs from techs completing last minute jobs. He ducked in for a bit of a chat and an update from all of them. Then he stopped off in the kitchens in the hope for a stray Christmas cookie but it was all dark, empty, and clean.

He returned to his quarters to change. He stripped off his wetsuit and slipped on jeans and a hoodie. He ran a comb through his wet, wild curls, but his hair would do as it wanted. He’d long ago given up trying to tame it.

He looked around his neat quarters. Everything was in its place. Predator was just outside his window.

He shifted uneasily. He wasn’t used to being alone anymore. Jean was always around, keeping watch.

That constant presence was annoying. It was comforting. He hated it. He loved it. He couldn’t escape it, but he couldn’t say that he wanted to.

There was a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach. He shook his head at himself. Jean was more than old enough to take care of himself. There was a lot about the modern world that he still didn’t understand, but he was a quick learner and still had more common sense than most of humanity.

Armand went to his office for his last meeting with Porthos before Porthos returned to his island, not to return until everyone else after the new year. However, Porthos wasn’t there. He frowned. Everyone who worked for him knew that he preferred they be punctual.

Maybe it was Jean’s constant presence rubbing off on him, but he couldn’t just sit and wait. He wandered up to the highest level to Porthos’ lair. The door was open and Porthos was shouting, but it wasn’t a sound of distress or anger. It was more what he sounded like when his football team was losing or he lost at Mariocart.

The office was just below sea level. The water outside the one window was lighter than outside the rooms deeper below the surface. The space was full of equipment, from things needed for the computers to things needed during the dives. Enlarged pictures of the ruins and inscriptions and maps of the ocean and seafloor were tacked everywhere on the walls. The large desk dominated the room from its place against the back wall. Monitors were stacked on top of each other, interconnected to Porthos’ high powered computer.

Armand leaned against the doorframe and watched the action on all of the screens. One end of his mouth quirked up. “One last game of Fortnight before you leave?” he asked in dry amusement.

Porthos sat at his massive desk. He wore a headset. The furious typing didn’t let up. He looked at Armand over his shoulder. He was flushed with excitement and gave an unrepentant grin. “Of course,” he shot back. “You know how Alice gets when I play at home.”

Armand chuckled quietly. “I’ve heard stories. Do you have everything done for the break?” 

“Yeah.” Porthos turned back to his game. “Come on in. I’m not late, am I?”

Armand pushed away from the doorframe and gracefully dropped into the chair next to Porthos. “We were supposed to meet five minutes ago.”

Porthos quickly saved his game and turned to face Armand. His brow furrowed. “Wait, you just got out of the water and you’re on time.” 

Armand rolled his eyes. “I’m always on time.”

“Not anymore.” Porthos chuckled. “I was going to give you another twenty minutes.”

“Why?”

Porthos waved at Armand. “Wet curls. You in a wetsuit.” He arched his eyebrows suggestively. “What did you do? Hit him with a face full of shark spray?”

Armand didn’t pretend not to catch Porthos’ meaning. He didn’t blush. Instead, he smirked. “If you must know, I used shark repellant batspray.”

Porthos threw his head back and let out a laugh. “Some days you just can’t get rid of a bomb.” He sighed and shook his head. “I wish Alice appreciated the Adam West Batman as much as I do.”

Armand shrugged. “There’s no accounting for taste.”

Porthos read Armand’s shirt. His grin got even wider. “Capt Quint’s Anti-Shark Cage Theory.” On it was a crudely drawn shark and a stick figure in a shark cage. He waved at Armand. “Someone’s got you pegged.”

Armand joined in the laughter. “From Secret Santa.”

“You know who it is?”

“I have a feeling it was Constance. She looked right pleased with herself when I opened it.”

Porthos made a show of looking around to be sure they were still alone. He leaned in close to Armand and lowered his voice, “Is it true? I heard she bullied Jean into participating.”

Armand did the same, as if they were in a spy movie. “She tried. She said since he spends all of his time here anyway, he’s part of our community and should be included.”

Porthos rubbed his hands together in gleeful anticipation. “What did he say to that?”

Armand smiled ruefully. “Not much. He growled and tried to stalk away. She kept stepping in front of him and holding the Santa hat under his nose. He grumbled something under his breath but drew a name.”

“I can just imagine. That Constance is a firecracker. I just hope she never pushes him too far.” Porthos couldn’t stop laughing. He eased back in his seat. “Explains why he wanted me to take him to the Christmas market on the mainland.”

Suddenly, the unease was back in Armand’s stomach. He got up to walk to the window and pressed his hand to the glass. “The Christmas market? He’d hate it. Too many people.”

Porthos took a deep breath and his giggles subsided. “That’s what I told him. Too many people, all the music, not to mention all the candles and perfumes and shit.”

Armand turned to pace to the other side of the office and back. He felt jittery. “I’m glad you tried to talk some sense into him. He’d be overwhelmed.” He rested his forehead against the glass. He took a moment to just breathe. “Although, I’m surprised that he just didn’t tell me that we’re going.”

Porthos sounded thoughtful. “Not if he wanted to get something for you.”

Armand shut his eyes. The swirling in his stomach picked up. He kept his voice low and controlled. “Maybe. He still doesn’t get the whole Christmas thing. He’s still upset that I’m going to my family on Christmas Eve.”

Porthos was suddenly at Armand’s side. He put a hand on Armand’s shoulder. “He seems to understand taking care of you.”

“I hardly get a moment to myself anymore,” Armand complained half heartedly. “I’m not used to being joined at the hip with someone.”

“You don’t seem to mind it,” Porthos answered gently.

“I don’t suppose I do.”

Porthos gently pulled Armand away from the window to get a better look at him. “You all right? You’re white as a sheet.”

Armand’s hands were shaking but he didn’t notice. “I don’t know. Something’s wrong.”

Porthos guided Armand back to his chair and eased him down. He pulled his chair close and sat in front of him. “With you?”

Armand ran a hand through his hair. He focused on that sinking feeling. “No,” he finally answered haltingly. “It’s not coming from me. It’s Jean.”

“He was fine this morning. When was the last time you saw him?”

Armand’s heart was beating wildly in his chest. He was lightheaded. He sat forward and rested his head in his hands. “I…after lunch. I had some work to finish before my swim. I expected him to follow me like he always does.”

Porthos put his hands over Armand’s to ground him but made no move to make him sit upright. “But he didn’t.”

Armand let out a shaky breath. “No.”

Porthos’ cell phone playing the Super Mario theme interrupted them. He made a mad grab for it and answered without looking who it was. “Later,” he barked. “What? Where are you?” He held a hand over the phone to speak quietly to Armand. “It’s Charon. Jean went to the Christmas market with him and some of our other people doing last minute shopping.” His eyes got wide. “Now, Jean’s acting a little squirrelly, growling like a cornered animal.” He listened for a split second longer before jumped to his feet and offered his free hand to Armand. “Something like that. We’re on our way. Try to get him some place quiet.”

Armand willed the beginning of the panic attack to subside. He swallowed a wave of nausea and let Porthos help him to his feet. He leaned against Porthos’ arm.

“No. No need for an ambulance,” Porthos assured Charon. “It’s just the noise and the people…I know he’s freaking everyone out. It’ll be okay. Just get him away from the crowd and try not to touch him.”


	3. The only thing that did make sense in this world was Armand.

It took all that was in the Shark god not to snap. Everything was a blur of color and noise and he couldn’t understand anyone talking to him. People jostled against him with no hint of politeness. All of the conflicting scents were overwhelming and disgusting. He started growling and wasn’t even aware of it. He shut his eyes and pressed his lips together to hide his teeth. Charon’s barely there hand on his elbow still burned. 

Suddenly, the air was cooler and the sounds were muted, not gone. The music and the feet above him grated on his nerves. He could still smell the mass of people and the myriad Christmas scents. The headache beat between his eyes and his stomach roiled. He wanted nothing more than to tear them all apart for some peace. Part of him wanted to taste their blood.

Thankfully, Charon was gone and he was alone in a dimly lit basement. To one side, there were rows of empty shelves. To the other, there was a battered, old couch, a chipped coffee table, a thirty year old refrigerator, and an old tube television and rabbit ears. A small bar sat in one corner with a sign hanging above it, proclaiming this to be “Alf’s Man Cave”.

He looked at it all with his black shark eyes and openly displayed his teeth. He didn’t know what a “man cave” was and he didn’t give a damn. He paced. He tried not to listen. He tried not to inhale too deeply.

Blood and anger thundered in his veins. This was chaos. There were too many people. They were rude and loud. They didn’t have the fear or respect they should and he was too weak to demonstrate his displeasure as he used to.

He felt weak and vulnerable and it just made him angrier. All he’d wanted was a gift for Armand and some trifle for the name on the slip of paper that Constance forced on him. He didn’t see the point for all of this besides an excuse for overindulgence.

Plus, he’d read Armand’s Bible, but he still didn’t get how that story (he would never say if he thought it true) translated to this insanity. His people had had their own festivals and ways to worship him and the Land Goddess, times of joy and feasts and sex, but those made sense. This didn’t.

The only thing that did make sense in this world was Armand.

He was so distracted that he didn’t hear the basement door open. He was so focused on not smelling that mass of strangers and everything that went with them that he didn’t place Armand’s scent right away. He kept pacing, his head down, and growling about the injustice of it all.

Armand’s voice was soft and firm. “Jean.”

Jean’s head shot up. He had no shame or fear displaying his eyes and teeth to Armand. He stopped short just before he could run into Armand. He let out a sharp cry, swiftly pulled Armand into his arms, and buried his face in Armand’s neck.

Armand hugged Jean back, just as tightly. He cradled the back of Jean’s head in one hand. The other moved up and down Jean’s back. He kissed Jean’s temple. “It’s okay. I’m here.”

Jean let out a shuddering breath. He growled and inhaled deeply. He didn’t know that he was shaking.

Armand walked them over to the couch, not once even trying to loosen the embrace. They sat down together. He settled into the corner so Jean could freely press against him. He ran gentle fingers through Jean’s hair.

Jean only shifted to get closer. He was half in Armand’s lap. He kept his nose pressed to the side of Armand’s neck. His hands found their way under Armand’s shirt to rest against warm skin.

Armand rubbed the back of Jean’s neck. “Breathe with me, Jean.”

Jean’s erratic breathing evened out as he focused on Armand. He listened to Armand’s heartbeat. The scent of the man blotted out the others. The tension slowly bled from his body and his headache dissipated.

Armand held Jean long after the shaking stopped. He continued rubbing Jean’s neck and back. He murmured low endearments and encouragement in Jean’s ear.

Jean didn’t realize it when the music upstairs stopped or the noise from all the people in the upstairs shop faded away. He didn’t sleep, but he rested against Armand, almost completely unaware of anything else around them. His eyes were closed and he was relaxed.

Armand barely nudged him. “Jean.”

Jean ignored him, warm and content.

Armand chuckled and nudged a little harder. “Jean.”

Jean finally raised his head and blinked. His eyes and teeth were normal. “Armand,” he rasped.

Armand cupped the side of Jean’s face. His thumb caressed Jean’s cheek. “The market has closed for the night and I’m sure the shopkeeper would like his basement back. Are you okay to leave?”

Jean frowned. He was warm and comfortable here. He grumbled under his breath.

Armand gave a small smile. “The others already left. Porthos will make sure I get back to the facility. Swim back in your megalodon form.” He lightly brushed his lips across Jean’s. “Don’t get distracted, go straight to our quarters, and I’ll be there to take care of you.”


	4. “I’ve never known you to hesitate. Tell me what you want.”

It took another ten minutes for Armand to get Jean to disentangle himself to stand. Jean shifted awkwardly and watched Armand, biting his lip. His eyes and teeth were normal but the hesitancy was not.

Armand stood close. He took Jean’s arm, snaked a hand behind Jean’s head, and pulled Jean’s face into his neck. “Most of them are gone, Jean,” he whispered soothingly. “They’ve taken all their chaos with them.”

Jean just clutched at Armand and inhaled deeply. 

Armand ran his fingers through Jean’s hair and then gave a small tug. “Ignore the rest.”

Jean let out a low growl but stepped back. He nodded. He dropped his gaze.

Armand kept a hold of Jean’s arm. He led Jean up the stairs to the main shop. All the lights were off except for the Christmas tree and a small light over the main register. Porthos and Alf, the shop keeper, were the only ones there. Their hushed conversation stopped immediately.

He saw Jean to the door and opened it to the crisp night air. It was quiet but the smell of all the different foods lingered in the air. All of the outdoor Christmas decorations were off. There weren’t any pedestrians or vehicles. He squeezed Jean’s arm and smiled softly. “I’ll see you at home. It will be just me and you.”

Jean growled and nodded again. He took off running towards the water. 

Armand watched him disappear before he closed the door and turned back to approach the other two waiting patiently at the counter. “You have my gratitude, Mr…”

Alf was in his mid fifties, tall and barrel chested. He had shaggy blonde hair, streaked with gray, in an untidy ponytail. His clothes were disheveled from running about his shop all day. He waved one of his large, calloused hands. “Alf, please. It was no problem. Are you sure he’ll be all right on his own?” 

Armand stopped next to Porthos. “He’s heading home. He won’t be distracted by anything else.”

“Tunnel vision.” Alf smiled sadly. “I’ve got some experience with PTSD. I was happy to be able to help. Was he in the army? Navy?”

Armand frowned for a moment in thought. That actually wasn’t too far off the mark. For the Shark god, that last confrontation and the cataclysm that claimed his city wasn’t too long ago.

“Something like that,” Porthos answered quickly and reached back for his wallet. “At least let us give you something for your trouble.”

Alf shook his head firmly and waved for Porthos to not even get his wallet out. “No. Your friend needed help and I did my best to help him, even if that was just providing a quiet place until the cavalry arrived. I’m guessing you’re not his doctor.”

Armand leaned with his lower back against the counter. He rubbed the back of his neck. “No,” he sighed. “More like his keeper.”

Alf rooted around in one of the drawers behind the counter. He handed Armand a card. “A support group for other survivors.” He shrugged. “If he’s ever interested.”

Armand pocketed the card. He inclined his head respectfully. “Thank you.”

“Are you sure there’s nothing we can do for you?” Porthos asked.

Alf rolled his eyes and fixed Porthos with a mock stern look. “Yes, you can’t get the hell out of my shop so I can get some sleep. The crowds will be back bright and early tomorrow.”

Armand let out a small laugh and straightened up. “He makes a point, Porthos, and Jean will be looking for me when he gets back. Don’t want to keep him waiting too long.”

Porthos nodded. “Right.” He held his hand out to Alf. “Thanks again.”

Alf shook hands with Porthos and then Armand. He saw them to the door and handed them their coats. “Merry Christmas.”

“To you as well,” Armand answered just before he ducked out the door.

“You know he won’t be interested,” Porthos remarked casually when they were safely in his boat, on the way back to the facility. He stood behind the wheel in the pilothouse. “He won’t admit to any type of weakness. It would be too human.”

Armand was beside him, staring out at the dark ocean. He smiled wryly. “I know. Thanks for your help.”

Porthos waved that off. “No problem. We both know what kind of havoc he would’ve wreaked if you didn’t get to him in time.” He offered a crooked grin. “Besides, we wouldn’t want him to eat anyone just before Christmas. It would be bound to ruin their holiday.”

Armand snickered despite himself. “We couldn’t have that.”

They didn’t talk much the rest of the journey. Armand waved and wished Porthos and his a Merry Christmas before he stepped off the boat. He made his way into the facility and took the elevator down the several floors to his personal quarters. He barely had the door closed behind him when he had a naked Jean in his arms and Jean’s face pressed into his neck. He cradled the back of Jean’s head. He was silent, letting Jean scent him and listen to his breathing and his heartbeat.

They stood that way for an endless time, until Jean shuddered. He pulled back just enough to start pawing at Armand’s clothes. He was half growling and half whimpering. The sound was low, angry, and vulnerable.

Armand never wanted to hear it again. He covered Jean’s hands with his own. He gently pried them off his clothes before anything could be ripped in Jean’s clumsy haste. He held Jean’s gaze and kissed each of Jean’s palms. Then he swiftly stripped, pulled back the blankets on the bed, pushed Jean to lie down, and crawled in next to him.

They settled together under the covers, skin to skin. Armand was on his back with Jean half on top of him. Their limbs were intertwined, Jean’s head on Armand’s shoulder and his face once again buried in the side of Armand’s neck.

Armand trailed a hand up and down Jean’s back. The other stroked Jean’s hair. He kept it up long after he felt Jean relax completely in his arms. Jean’s breath was warm and steady against his skin. His own arms grew heavy, his movements sluggish. His eyes slipped closed and he was asleep.

He woke slowly the next morning to the feeling of Jean trailing kisses along his jaw and hands roaming all over him. He didn’t open his eyes. A lazy smile crossed his face. “Morning, Jean,” he murmured roughly. “Feeling better?”

“Morning,” Jean he answered, equally rough, as he pressed impossibly closer. “Better, but not normal.” 

Armand stretched a bit but didn’t try to get out from under Jean. He wrapped his arms around him. “It’ll take some time to figure out what that is for you now.”

Jean’s lips found Armand’s neck and ear. “I’m still not sure what happened to me last night, but thank the Maker you were there.” His voice dropped even lower. “I’m well aware of what happens when I lose control.”

Armand opened his eyes. He threaded his fingers in Jean’s hair and tilted Jean’s head so he could see his face. The vulnerability was still there, but the anger had evaporated, and Jean looked less helpless and out of control. He kissed Jean’s forehead, his cheeks, the tip of his nose, and then finally his mouth. He kept it all soft and light. “You didn’t,” he whispered against Jean’s lips. “And I’m so proud of you.”

Jean moaned and threw himself into the kiss. He slid fully on top of Armand. He sank both hands in Armand’s curls and rubbed against him.

Armand cupped Jean’s face. He kept their kisses deep, yet unhurried. He took his time, just feasting on Jean’s mouth.

Jean tugged on Armand’s hair, trying to get him move faster. He writhed against Armand, panting for more. He tore his mouth from Armand’s. He could barely get words out. “I want…”

Armand leaned up to kiss Jean’s throat. He playfully nipped him and reached down to tease Jean’s hardness. “Go ahead and take what you want. Have I ever stopped you?”

Jean batted Armand’s hand away. He sat up to straddle Armand’s hips. He was flushed and he didn’t meet Armand’s gaze. He bit his bottom lip. “I want…”

Armand rested his hands on Jean’s waist. He swept his thumbs over Jean’s skin in small circles. “I’ve never known you to hesitate. Tell me what you want.”

Jean took a deep breath. He planted his hands on Armand’s chest. His eyes darted to Armand’s before he tentatively rubbed his ass over Armand’s hard cock.

Armand’s breath hitched. His grip tightened on Jean’s hips. “But you never. Not even with Themistocles.”

Jean did it again. His voice stuttered. “No. I could never let him have me that way. I loved him above all others but I was his god.”

“You don’t have to.”

Jean growled in frustration. “I want you to take me.” He folded his arms across his chest and stuck his chin out. “I have adequately prepared myself.”

Armand pulled Jean back down against his chest. He hugged him tightly and kissed the side of his head. “Are you sure?”

Jean buried his face in Armand’s neck. He was barely audible. “Please.”

Armand stroked Jean’s back. “Okay, but we’re doing this my way.” 

Jean looked up and grinned. “I put myself entirely in your hands.”

“Really?”

Jean’s head bobbed up and down. “Really.”

Armand had never seen Jean look so much like an eager puppy. He kissed him again and then rolled them so that they were on their sides, facing each other. He caressed the side of Jean’s face. He continued the kiss, soft and languid, until Jean was panting into his mouth and trembling. “Roll onto your other side and pull your leg up closer to your chest.”

Jean did so without hesitation.

Armand smoothed a hand down Jean’s side. He kissed Jean’s shoulder. “Very good. Just try to relax and feel.”

Jean let out an impatient whine. “Armand, please. I want to feel you.”

“You will,” Armand murmured. He traced around Jean’s hole with light fingers. He felt the slickness and pushed one inside.

Jean groaned. He immediately tried to push back. He whined again when the finger disappeared completely.

Armand nipped the back of Jean’s neck. “You want me to keep taking care of you?”

“Yes. Yes, please,” Jean gasped out.

“You still want me in control?”

“Yes!”

Armand nipped Jean a second time. “Then be patient and you’ll get what you want. I don’t care if you are a god. I won’t hurt you.” He slid the finger inside again. He worked Jean open, adding a second and then a third finger. He scattered kisses and light nips across Jean’s neck and shoulders. He found what he was looking for when Jean yelped in a most ungodlike manner.

Jean’s trembling increased but he didn’t push back. He had a white knuckle grip on the bedding. He lapsed into old Atlantean.

Armand may not have understood the words but he knew the tone. He withdrew his fingers. He slicked himself, grabbed Jean’s hip, and pushed inside, slowly. The heat was intense and Jean’s body was determined to suck him in. He grit his teeth against the urge to just slam inside. Finally, he was flush against Jean’s back.

Jean was still babbling and begging in his mother tongue. He put his head back against Armand’s shoulder. His eyes were closed and his lips were swollen.

Armand eased out and then back in again. He moved and kept his thrusts shallow at first. His already tenuous control slipped. He started moving harder and faster. He bit the juncture where shoulder and neck met, hard enough to break the skin. “Move, beloved. Seek your pleasure.”

The shark black eyes opened and Jean thrust back to meet Armand, to take him even deeper to hammer that spot inside of him. He reached a hand back to grip Armand’s hip. He grabbed his own cock roughly.

Armand wrapped his hand around Jean’s. He licked his mark. “I want to see you come.”

Jean let out a guttural moan and exploded over their hands. Armand fucked him through it until he followed a few seconds later. It was an explosion of heat and pleasure and it was magnificent.

Armand came back to himself, spent, and still wrapped around Jean’s body. He gingerly moved and eased Jean onto his back. He’d never seen the shark look so soft and dazed before. He brushed a thumb over Jean’s bottom lip. “Are you all right?”

Jean gave a dopey smile. He grunted but couldn’t form words in English or old Atlantean. He shut his eyes and turned his head to nuzzle Armand’s palm.

Armand reached down to the floor for one of their discarded shirts to give them both a quick wipedown. Then he pulled a drifting Jean into his arms. “Merry Christmas, Jean.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is the shirt Armand got for Christmas:  
> https://www.redbubble.com/people/thesteele/works/9002248-farewell-and-adieu?carousel_pos=2&p=t-shirt&ref=shop_app_recommended_works&ref_id=7152276&style=mens&rbs=f4b54358-3d4c-4022-b2fd-dc1014d8f632


End file.
